The world swam in and out of focus. Each step was heavier than the last, his body nothing more than a vessel of sparks and pain. The road beneath him blurred into lines of fire. His chest burned as though lightning itself was chewing through his lungs.
"Lyanna…" he rasped. The name was the only thing keeping his legs moving.
But the storm in him was collapsing. His vision dimmed, ears ringing, the world tilting sideways. For the first time since he was a boy, Eryndor felt the terrifying truth: he might not make it.
Just as his knees buckled, a hand caught his shoulder.
"Stubborn as ever," a voice muttered.
Eryndor blinked through the haze. Kael's face came into view, hard-edged and calm even as sparks flickered from Eryndor's skin. Without a word, Kael hauled him up, throwing Eryndor's arm over his shoulder.
"You'll burn yourself out before you even reach her," Kael said, voice sharp but steady. "Save what's left of that storm. I'll get you there."
Eryndor tried to protest, but his throat failed him. His storm guttered like a dying flame, and in the end, he let Kael carry him.
When they arrived, the town was aflame. Smoke coiled into the sky, houses half-collapsed, soldiers shouting orders in the streets. But the defenders held—two figures stood at the forefront, blades flashing, a barrier of sheer defiance.
Lyanna's brother, Rian, carved through beasts with fire-tipped halberds, his movements sharp, unyielding. Beside him, their father stood like a fortress, blade broad enough to shield those behind him. Every strike sent tremors through the ground, every stance unshakable.
They were defending not just the town, but her.
Kael set Eryndor down just inside the barricades. "See? She's safe. Her family hasn't let a single thing through."
But Eryndor pushed against the ground, his arms trembling, refusing to stay down. "Not enough… I need to see her. With my own eyes."
Kael's hand pressed his chest, holding him steady. "You'll collapse if you push further."
"I don't care." Eryndor's voice was raw, almost a growl. "If I don't see her, nothing else matters."
Kael studied him for a moment, then exhaled. "Fine." He pulled him up again, half-dragging, half-guiding through the ruined streets until they reached the inner quarters where civilians had been gathered.
And there she was.
Lyanna sat among the wounded, cloak torn, soot across her cheek, but alive. Alive, with her hand resting over her stomach. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and all the storm in Eryndor's veins broke into silence.
"Eryndor…" Her voice cracked, but it was the sound of relief, not fear.
His legs gave out before he reached her, but Kael caught him again, lowering him to the floor. Eryndor forced his head up, gaze locked only on her.
"You're safe…" His voice was barely a whisper, but every ounce of him poured into it.
Lyanna reached for his hand, squeezing it tight. "I told you, didn't I? I'd fight to stay here. For us. For him."
Eryndor closed his eyes, breath shaking. He didn't care about the blood on his skin, the wounds screaming across his body, or the world burning beyond these walls. For the first time since the hollow sun, he let himself believe.
She was safe. Their child was safe.
And that was enough to keep his storm alive.